


Underneath Your Skin

by nanjcsy



Series: Candles Burn, Candles Go Out. [8]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dark Sansa, Going Home, Lady Stoneheart is Sansa, Light Thramsay, Loss of Identity, Making Deals With A Monstser, Manipulation, POV Sansa, Ramsay is his own warning, Redemption, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This story takes place at the end of season five when Sansa and Reek leap over the wall. Maybe a month or two months go by?</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. That Is Not Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place at the end of season five when Sansa and Reek leap over the wall. Maybe a month or two months go by?

"Reek."

A tangled mess of hair rose along with a pile of rags from the edge of the creek. Huge empty eyes stared meekly up at her and he mutely waited.

"I'm doing it now. After you fix that trap please go get an extra blanket. I want you to wrap it around me then help me back to camp. Understand?" Reek nodded and gave a sympathetic look to her foot.

"Wa..want me to.. do it for you, Lady Sansa?"

Reek managed to stammer out. He preferred to not talk, Ramsay has truly taught him well, even now Reek has control, not Theon.  Sansa shook her head and began to walk gingerly onto the ice.

"I need to do things for myself now." 

She started cross the ice towards the fishing hole Reek made. 

Reaching her goal, Sansa carefully sat down and slipped the remnants of a lady's boot off her left foot. Once Joff had admired her feet when they had walked along the shoreline at Kings Landing. Tyrion Lannister, her kind but brief husband, he would get drunk and tickle or even try to kiss her toes, while she would blush. Even Ramsay traced his blade over her feet once and said what a shame it would be to shatter them. Sansa knew she had pretty feet they way she knew she herself was pretty. It was a useless fact of life.

Now her feet were frostbitten, swollen, in some places fractured or bruised. They were not the pretty feet of Sansa Stark.

Her small toe was blackened and shriveling. She knew what happens if a piece of her rots...she will slowly rot to death. Sansa recalls her father and brothers speaking of such things during dinner until her mother stopped them with a glare.

That was when she was Sansa Stark.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged her foot into the water and hissed for a second. Her head went back and she blinked rapidly to get rid of tears. Sansa has stopped crying after jumping off the wall and surviving it. The icy wind leeches every bit of warmth from her and tears would freeze to her face. To be honest, Sansa has started to believe what Cersie, Petyr, Tyrion and Shae all told her about crying. Use it as a weapon but to sob for yourself, you do it in a pillow and never in public. Ramsay enjoys tears but he can tell if they are real and if they are not, he will make sure they become very real very fast.

Sansa tried to look around to find something her eye and mind can latch onto. To forget her burning, freezing foot, to stop the flood of jumbled thoughts. And she looked down at the clear water and saw the clouds in it. She leaned closer and gasped slightly. There was a face, a woman just under the surface. When Sansa tilted her head the young woman did the same.

"That is not me."

This unknown woman was quite similar though...but not Sansa Stark.

Sansa Stark would never have straggly, faded red hair in a messy braid halfway down her back like a dead weasel. Sansa would never have mud and leaves all over her, she would never wear shabby, filthy ripped clothing. Her mother would have been scandalized, her sister giggling, her brothers and father teasing her. Unthinkable. Not gentle, prim and proper good girl Sansa Stark.

"That is not me."

It certainly wasn't _almost_ Princess Sansa.

Joff liked to keep her pretty except for the bruising on her body under pretty clothing. Cersie and Joff may have been cruel, but they ever once denied her everything she needed to look lovely and perfect at all times. Her lovely hair would never be greasy and permanently damped by snow. If her skin had looked this weather ridden, if her eyes had bruises all around them as if she were punched, Cersie would have sent every potion known to man for her to fix it. They liked her as the pretty dove with broken wings. Sansa was a good girl and didn't disappoint.

"That. Is. Not. Me."

It couldn't be Sansa Lannister.

The young lady who was a bride but never a wife. Tyrion was always kind to her, he was more like a favorite drunk uncle than a husband. She wonders what he would have made of how she looks right now. If Sansa had been smarter, if she was not grieving and hating so badly it hurt to breathe....what if she had slept with Tyrion? What if she managed to talk him into taking them away from the castle? He did like her, Sansa wasn't unaware of it. Instead she stayed silently relived and grateful that Shae took care of Tyrion's needs at night. They thought they were secretive but Sansa knew. She was a young Lady and tried to be a good bride.

"That is not me!"

It looked nothing like Alayne Stone or Lady Sansa Stark.

Petyr wanted to be her mentor, her father and her husband all in one. Sansa knew he saw her mother whom he had obsessively loved all her life. He would have been extremely disappointed to see her like this. She had dressed in somber black, wore black feathers and dyed her hair black. And Sansa felt stronger...until Petyr decided to give her away, just another chess piece for him to use. And Sansa let him do it. What if...when Petyr had tried to kiss her..what if she had kissed him back that day? Would anything have changed?

"Not me. It is not."

But it was. And who would that be? Who would she be?

Sansa pulled her foot up, numb and bluish. She scratched at her foot and felt nothing. With a hand covered in rags, Sansa took her knife out of the small pack she had with her. It was one of Ramsay's blades that she had stolen the very first day that they showed up.  It lived under her mattress while Ramsay raped her. She would fantasize of plunging it into his neck as he plunged his cock into her. Sansa didn't because...she was a good girl. She was a young lady. She was trying to be a good wife?

Her foot was pressed flat against the ice and she didn't feel it. The knife flashed in the meager sunlight and a few errant snowflakes landed upon it. Sansa brought it down hard and fast, it was harder than she thought, her fingers numb and clumsily. She screamed and suddenly hacked and hacked until the blackened toe lay a bit away and blood seeped onto the ice.  Then it was over and Reek was carefully bandaging her stump. He helped her to stand and wrapped the blanket around her.

Before heading back to camp to formulate her plans, Sansa looked at the reflection in the water.

It is Lady Sansa Bolton. That is who it is. And that explains why Sansa didn't recognize herself...because she wasn't ready to accept that yet.

Sansa sat before the fire later, writing on the parchment Reek had stolen from the village nearby. She signed it, Lady Sansa Bolton and gave a tiny shiver. Then she rubbed her swelling stomach and gave a small smile. If I am to be a Bolton...so be it. But they will learn I am just as useful and deadly as they are. I have a reason to be now.


	2. Eating Life Raw

Sansa sat in the lean to, cleaning and cooking the few small fish they had for their dinner. She has learned to appreciate the meager meal more than she did the magnificent feasts she has had in the South. More than her comforting thoughts of the thick stews and sweet lemon cakes her mother would order their cooks to make for her birthday. Because for the first three weeks of this hellish run...she ate anything she could. 

A raw, skinned animal and Sansa remembers eating it and forcing herself not to vomit it out. Roots and mushrooms that made her and Reek sick enough to lose a whole day. For three weeks, they didn't dare light fires, they didn't dare not move. Raw animals became their main diet. Small creatures that Reek could easily catch and kill. They kept to the woods, avoiding any villages, any roads or worn pathways. Then a storm came that forced them into running for shelter.

They were incredibly lucky to find this camp with a sturdy lean to. It had been recently used which was alarming but both were ready to kill if they had to. A wandering person is no danger compared to what was surely hunting them. It was a stroke of luck, a ready made camp and fish close by. Sansa has learned how to make traps to catch small prey. And learned to skin and dress animals. She has learned how to fish, how to build a fire in the freezing snow, how to survive. And it is not good enough. To just survive is what she always has done. Look where that got her.

Sansa had survived, endured and waited...for someone to save her. There is no one left that could save her. No family to call upon, no friends to take shelter with, no one. Finally, in a fast moment with no time for thought, she saved herself. And if she died in the fall, at the moment, Sansa was fine with that too. It was still freedom and a win even if in death. She heard shuffling footsteps and thought about how fast and silent Theon Greyjoy had been. Reek came into sight, head down, large eyes shifting up to hers, then away fast. Anyone would think he was waiting for a beating with a large stick.

"Did you find someone to deliver the note? Did you remember to add the proof of who I am?"

Reek nodded and limped over to slump before the fire, shivering, his ruined teeth chattering.

"Good. Thank you, Reek."

He gave the slightest of nods then spoke hesitantly.

"Wh..what if it doesn't work, Lady Sansa...I can't. I can't go up to others and hire someone for you. To protect you. It was hard enough to find anyone that would talk to me long enough to send your message! And we...we are being hunted so there is a very large price on your head! If we go alone to see him....he'll bring his boys and hide them...and who knows what else. Maybe we should just-"

"Do. Not. Say. It!"

Sansa glared at him and threateningly reached her hand towards a stick. She hated treating him this way, but its what his sick broken mind will respond to. With a small whimper, Reek put his head down and hid the few fingers he had left. Sansa moved her hand away from the stick and put her hands in her lap instead.

"Yes, Reek. Crawling and groveling our way back might earn us only a punishment and then forgiveness. I heard you the first thousand times you wailed it. And that was only a day in! We are going back, but it has to be on new terms, Reek. Even though I shouldn't bother, I plan on protecting you as much as I can..as well as for myself and the baby. Maybe tomorrow I can go scouting with you and see if we can find anyone. I dare not go to any of the families I know. I don't know who is my enemy or not anymore, who I can really trust is myself."

Reek served the fish silently then sat at her feet rather than the log stumps. Sansa has become used to it. She really did try to bring Theon back. But the more she said his name, the more she treated him as Theon, the more he regressed. He cried and screamed in his sleep, he bursts out begging Sansa to take them home before it gets worse. So she began to call him Reek and give orders along with threats. He became obedient and the outbursts lessened. The day Sansa told Reek she was pregnant and they had to go home, he stopped having the nightmares. 

"He will come. He will be curious enough, he loves games remember? What better game than one that involves your runaway pet and wife?"

Reek winced at the word pet and the cold bitter tone.

"Please..be so careful with him. Master...he always wins, Sa..Lady Sansa. You are very smart and clever, but he is too. He..he lies...he tricks and he charms. Be so so careful. He just needs to get us home and the punishment is happening. It will happen  no matter what. He will remove my feet or flay my chest and arms. Or take out my eyes and make me eat them, like he did to that one prisoner at Dreadfort."

Sansa is also very used to these panicked litanies of Reek's. In his world, Ramsay has the status of a god that has his fearful, loving worship and he had defied him. It was unthinkable and Reek cannot comprehend why they are not begging forgiveness for their terrible disobedience.


	3. Jagged Words

The answer of protection came in the dead of the frozen night. The meager fire in the lean to that they lit was doing nothing to stop the menacing shadows. Reek and Sansa were huddled, crouched still half asleep. She clutched her small knife and Reek grabbed the stick Sansa used for threats. He gave a low whining growl and Sansa stood up. It could be Ramsay or it could be Wildings, regardless she will not be refused her dignity. Sansa stood and walked as calmly as she could into the meager fire and moon light.

"Who is there?"

"Lady Sansa?"

When Brienne and Podrick came into the light, Sansa started to laugh bitterly. Here was her Northern friend, a disgraced lady knight of sorts on a failed, doomed mission. And not Northern at all but burdened with a oath to keep two Northern girls safe. With her is Podrick, a squire of a now disgraced runaway killer. Sansa smiled, it has become a camp of outcasts of sorts now.

"Arya is alive."

Sansa nodded and it seemed Brienne and Podrick had expected a bigger response. The seeping winter cold has already gone underneath her flesh and into her body and mind. If Arya were here, Sansa would hug her and try to keep her safe and well. But Arya chose her own path and Sansa has no time left to worry over her.

"If she learned from the Hound and she chose to ignore your help, then my sister has her own plans in mind. I will pray that she remains safe and that someday I might cross paths with her again."

"We tried to find...her brothers. Rickon and Bran. All we could find out was rumors."

Reek managed to blurt out as he sat next to Sansa's feet. Podrick and Brienne look at him the way most do. Disgust and mistrust. He didn't care as long as they did not touch him or Sansa. 

"Bran went deep North, past the wall with the Reed siblings. I cannot travel that far in my condition. And the rumor about my brother Rickon is that he and a Wildling woman ran to live on Skaagos. Again, a place I cannot go to like this."

Sansa rubbed her stomach almost fondly.

 

"Let me save you."

The words barely left Brienne's mouth before Sansa's jagged laughter cut through the snow that swirled between the boards of the tiny shelter.

"Oh yes. Everyone just wants to save me. Cersei, Tyrion, Peytr, the Boltons...they all wanted to _help me_. So did Ramsay's whore and this mess of what used to be a Greyjoy."

Her words made Reek cringe lower and caused Podrick to startle.

"You cannot save me. Where else would I go? I heard that my half brother Jon was murdered on the Wall as a traitor. I cannot go there, Petyr will have eyes in the Riverlands. Shall I go west and seek out my drunken former husband? Maybe meet a dragon and the Mother of Dragons? There is only one direction I can go. You can stay and guard me, help me keep Ramsay from tearing me apart. But I will not ask, it is up to you, it is your lives at risk."

"I swore to your mother to protect you and your sister. To keep you safe."

Another bitter laugh sliced them all.

"My mother is long dead. And according to some stories we heard, the dead might be walking around. You'd better hope that if my mother is roaming, with a cold soul and heart of ice....that she never finds you."

"I cannot help you with the fact that you failed in keeping your oath to my mother. But I can help you with redemption for it. If you wish to accompany me to speak with my husband, it will be helpful to me. Think on it. I leave with Reek in the morning to head to the pub to meet Ramsay. One way or another."   


	4. Mercy Without Punishment Is The Coldest Revenge

"I think it is a terribly dangerous idea and will not work. I think as soon as Ramsay gets you back to Winterfell, he will renege on any agreements with you. He and his father, will not allow me to stay with you, they would never allow me into Winterfell. But I must fulfill your mother's oath in some way. So I will go with you and guard you as long as I am able to."

Brienne lowered her head and went to one knee.

"As long as I am able I will protect you for your mother, Lady Sansa."

Sansa made a movement with her mouth that both the giant lady and the squire took for a forgiving smile. Reek knew far better and he cringed low.

"Then I will stand in place of my mother to see to your oath myself. Please stand up now. I am no princess, thank the gods. Being a Lady Wife is bad enough. My husband will come alone up to us, but rest assured his Boys will be everywhere. Possibly before we even get there. I do not wish to be ambushed. I want Ramsay to hear me out. You are to provide that opportunity for me, Brienne. You will make sure the Boys do not get in the way of my discussion with my Lord Husband."

Sansa waited for Brienne's nod then turned to look at Podrick, a young clumsy boy no longer, now a young clumsy man.

"Reek will stay next to me, just behind me, Podrick you will guard him. If I am important to Roose Bolton, Reek is twice as important to Ramsay. Look what he has turned a once handsome warrior into. Ramsay is prideful and likes to flaunt his creation, he is actually loves him in some twisted way. Like owning an exotic pet."

Even Podrick and Brienne felt pity for the creature at the cold hard words of truth. Reek's frame shook harder he started to pant and Sansa's hand came down gently upon his bowed head.

"Don't worry, Reek. That is what you are now, that is exactly what makes your Master happy. You need to make him very, very happy. Once you are punished, you must be so very good, Ramsay won't give anymore chances after this one. Don't breathe that way. In through your nose, out through your mouth, remember? Better. I will help you, I promise he won't flay you alive or maim you. You are going to have a very simple thing to do."

Sansa bent down so she could hold Reek's chin and make him look up at her.

"You will agree with everything I say. Whether you know it to be a truth or a lie. This is the one time it will be perfectly fine to lie to your Master. Your Mistress is giving you permission for it. It will save your pieces, it would save you the skin on your skinny frame. It is my gift, my mercy to you, Reek. Do not throw it away or you'll never get another from me again. Remember, Ramsay is your Master but I will be home far more often then he will. You know Ramsay's version of mercy and wrath. I think you understand clearly my version of mercy and wrath. Take one or earn the other."

Reek sobbed and nodded frantically. A strip, a jagged strip on his back suddenly seemed to catch fire, then all his bones ached along with his simple head. Yes, simple, simple, stay so simple, always and forever. Safer and the scars all seemed to hurt terribly then fade into a numbing cold.

"Lady Sansa is always sweet and truthful, I will let you decide what I believe. I...my head is muddled, stupid Reek. Reek is too stupid to lie, Master knows that! I have to listen to what Mistress says happened because Reek is too stupid to remember on his own. Thank you, Lady for helping me. I am grateful for your mercy. I am grateful not to have to remember on my own."

Reek finally bit off his babble. He stared at Sansa's boot, wrapped over and over with bandages as if it would do any good. She would lose another toe soon if they stayed out here. Reek refused to even check his own toes, he didn't want to look. Maybe if there were any frostbitten ones, Ramsay would consider them at least half the debt paid. Reek knew that was wishing for too much, he was BAD, he was DISLOYAL!

And yet, he was the whipped dog a real Ironborn once accused him of being. He was a dog with its tail behind its legs, it had a run now wanted to come home, knowing it was in trouble. But a dog cannot survive on it's own once it is trained to know where it's survival lies. Reek knows that the punishment will be the worst thing in the world, it might even be fatal. And yet, like any well trained cowering bitch, he wants to slink home and grovel for mercy.   

Sansa kissed his forehead and whispered to him.

"It will be bad, but not as bad as it would have been. I will try very hard to make Ramsay want to forgive you, to show you some mercy. Just allow me to speak for you, agree with everything I say and be as broken as you've ever been. Let Ramsay see how much you have missed him, how sorry and fearfully submissive you are. But do not go to him until I give you permission to do it. You must obey everything I say. You can let Ramsay see that you are trying your best to learn how to obey both of us. You can let Ramsay see how you are confused, simple and trying to obey every command given. You may twitch, whine, continually look over to your Master as if you want nothing more than to go to him. If I give you permission, you can speak to your Master. If I give you permission to go to him, you'll scuttle on all fours to kiss his boots. Lick them, debase yourself as much as you can. It will help Ramsay believe our truth."  

Reek nodded and simple stupid Reek believed that any truth that Sansa said was the truth. The honest truth he can look into his Master's icy eyes with.

Sansa stood up and looked up at the sky and took a very deep breath.

"Well, I won't be dressed exactly as I would have liked for this meeting. However, Reek was able to use his ability to hide well to steal this dress for me. I am going to try and make myself as clean and presentable as possible. We leave in two hours."

She nodded at Brienne and Podrick who looked at her uneasily. With another small pat to Reek's head, Sansa headed out into the early winter light.

"Reek, attend me please."   

The broken man hurried out after her, his twitch worsening. His eyes were empty except for a desperate need to obey and earn mercy.

Brienne grimaced and muttered to Podrick.

"If she needs help with ties and hair things or such fluff, why didn't she ask the one female here to assist her?"

Podrick shrugged then gave a small grin while staring after them.

"Maybe because you call them ties and hair thing or such fluff and he doesn't?"

She whacked his head and they were both amused for a moment. Both tried to dispel the terrible feeling of walking a young girl into a sadistic awful trap.

Brienne tried to close her eyes to sleep but kept seeing Lady Catelyn's face hovering in the dark. It wasn't the kind woman who asked for an oath. This was a vengeful ghost, an angry undead stalking the edges of Brienne's sanity, just waiting for another failure.

Podrick managed to doze a little but had terrible nightmares that drained what little energy he had left in him. All he could remember when he woke up with terrible screaming. It sounded like someone, but Podrick couldn't figure out who. Several times as they walked towards the meeting at the pub, he convinced himself it was each of them.

 


	5. I Am Owed

Sansa looked at the black stiff dress that was too tight, making her breasts and belly strain forth. In a way it was just too fitting. Reek helped her into her cloak and mittens. There was no helping the gaunt look to her eyes, her hair was in a stiff braid, there was nothing further she could do with it. Then again, Ramsay saw Sansa at her best and was unimpressed.

Perhaps seeing her as less than some perfect little plaything was just what was needed. He needed to see her as what she knew she was now. Lady Bolton. By God, he is her husband and he owes her the right to be a wife. To have her title, have her home and none of them are going to stand in her way any longer.

"I am ready, Reek. Trust me. Obey me."

"I do. I'm..scared. If it doesn't...if Master won't listen..."

"Do not think of it anymore. Just be broken, be so broken that he won't need to break you down more. Trust me. Obey me."

The inn was empty inside and out except for the innkeeper, who looked terrified.

"Lady Sansa, I am concerned for your safety. I have always tried to be loyal to the North, to the Starks and I hope that I have not caused you any harm by letting you have this meeting here."

The man was sweating and Sansa gave him a calm smile.

"I am sure that my Lord Ramsay's men have already come by to clear you out. To threaten you, probably killed at least half your staff. They are hiding all about I am sure, since at least dawn. It is alright, you have done the best you could. You must be loyal to the Boltons, of course. And I will remind Lord Ramsay that you are indeed loyal. After all, I am Lady Sansa Bolton now. So you were loyal helping me, weren't you?"

Sansa swept past the shamed and relieved man into the inn. It was clean and empty, except for a blood stain in a corner. She sat at a table that let her put her back against the wall. Reek was made to kneel beside her. Podrick stood behind Reek, hovering over him. Due to the positioning of Sansa it was impossible for Brienne to be behind or beside her. 

"I want you to be just in front of Podrick, that way no one can get past you at any of us. Keep your eyes on the Boys, they are going to creep closer as soon as they get Ramsay's signal."

Brienne bit her tongue against protest and nodded sharply.

The inn-keep brought a jug of ale and several mugs. Then he tried to hide in his own stock room, listening, hoping not to be called nor to hear the slaughter of that noble girl.  

Sansa had poured herself an ale and grimaced at the taste. After a few tense moments, the door opened bringing a gust of snow and Ramsay Bolton. His eyes were colder than the winter itself and his smirk was full of malicious curiosity. She might be mistaken, and by the gods, please don't let it be mistaken, but there seemed to be a gleam of grudging admiration or respect in his features as well.

As he walked closer to the table, Sansa sat ramrod straight and frozen in icy fear. Reek made a terrible soft whimper of terror and need. It almost made her flinch. The moment was here and Ramsay was almost at the table. And Sansa felt her will crack.

_Oh, Mother, what am I about to do? I don't know if I can. Mother, I might die today. If I cannot do this, I will kill this babe and myself before I let Ramsay take control again. I have my knife ready because I am just a stupid little girl and-_

_No. That was Sansa Stark. Before she learned of things like Joff, Cersie, Petyr and Ramsay. I can do this because I am Catelyn Stark's daughter, because I was Tyrion's friend, because I am Lady Bolton and I AM OWED._

 

 


	6. A Heart Of Stone

Ramsay stopped just before the table, his icy eyes giving his wife a full survey. His lips began to twist into a familiar smirk that Sansa despises but now is thrilled to see. She has learned his ways enough to know what each look means. If he had pretended concern or affection, she would have expected an instant attack. This is the playful Ramsay, he is intrigued at her daring, he wants to understand it, poke at it and then when he is bored, attack. Much better.

"I am afraid I am not very Ladylike in my ways at the moment, My Lord Husband. Please forgive my unusual rugged looks, I am sure you can understand my lack of neat appearance."

Sansa spoke politely and clearly, her hands neatly folded on the table, her back so straight and stiff that it hurt with her chin up. Her eyes were hard, glittering black ice trapped in stone. Sansa showed no fear, she was the picture of calmness. He could not tell that her stomach was a bit larger, rounder, not under her cloak.

He also couldn't know how cold and sore she was. How the wet wool stuck to her skin and itched terribly, how her bowels felt loose and watery with terror. Sansa pretended she was stone, grey stone encased her instead of the snow and ice. She forced herself to match his gaze and give back playful challenge. Ramsay probably knew he was being baited, he just didn't know why yet. The need to know and play a game was Ramsay's one true weakness.  Sansa remembered who she was and stopped wondering if she would piss herself in fear. If that happened, if the worst happened, it did. It was too late to turn back, to change course.

"I am very relieved to see that you are safe, My Lady. I was very hurt that you ran from your home and loving husband. You also took my pet and I am still trying to understand why Myranda was crushed on the stones."

Ramsay glanced over briefly to the form of Reek kneeling with his head down low, shivering and whimpering.

"Please sit down, Ramsay. I would like to speak with you privately. I can assure you that my friends are not here to injure anyone. Let me introduce you to them if I may."

Sansa indicated Podrick who was nervously standing over Reek.

"That is Podrick Payne, former squire to my former husband Tyrion Lannister. He kindly has offered to help me with my safety and keeping your pet from bolting back to you."

Sansa then indicated Brienne who was being disdainfully appraised by Ramsay.

"This is Brienne of Tarth. She had sworn an oath to my mother to find and bring her daughters to safety. Sadly both Arya and myself turned her offers down and she was unable to fulfill her oath. I have asked her to keep your men busy so we can talk privately. That way her debt to my mother can be paid. So, I am sure you heard how she was able to escape Locke and his bear. I am sure your men have too."

She felt her heart ache then go so cold as Ramsay gave a grudging look of respect to Sansa and Brienne started to see the men come forward grinning.

"If they can take her down, she is theirs. Good enough sport for them, My Lord? So that we may sit and speak?"

Sansa reached out one hand to Podrick, keeping him still.

"If you move, they will kill you. Your job is to keep Reek here and myself safe, Podrick."

She spoke softly but her eyes never left Ramsay's. She ignored the clashing and screaming as Brienne desperately fought five men at once. Even when they wounded her, took her down and dragged her away, Sansa never looked away from Ramsay's face. He watched the show with some amusement and then turned to look back at Sansa.

"Impressive. Why didn't I see this side of you before, I wonder?" 

"Before I wasn't ready to be Lady Bolton or rather, I wasn't given a chance to be." 

Ramsay arched an eyebrow and got comfortable in his chair.

"Oh? And now..you feel ready to be Lady Bolton? If you have a chance to be."

"Yes."

Sansa took a deep breath and opened her mouth to begin the most important games of her life. 


	7. Give To Me What I Am Owed

"I have a gift for you too, not just your men, Ramsay."

Ramsay raised his eyebrows. His smile began condescendingly charming.

"Oh? Are you giving me back my pet? Is that my gift? It's kind of second hand now..but well, I imagine short of a frozen piece of fish, what else could you offer me?"

"I am pregnant. You are going to be a father."

Ramsay sat straight up now, his face frozen and his tone was soft and deadly now.

"Show me."

Sansa slowly stood and pulled back her cloak. She turned so he could see how tight the cloth stretched over her stomach.

A new look started to appear and Sansa had the feeling it was as new to him as her. Who knew what it meant?

"Now, I have something you want and if you'll let me continue speaking, you'll see there is more I can offer you. If we can work together."

Leaning forward, Ramsay tried to cower Sansa with his eyes.

"I have been very patient. I have been allowing these games of yours, you are amusing me. Here is my offer, dear wife. If you come with me right now, due to your condition and that fact that you have become interesting....I will not punish you for your wild little run."

_Stone, I am stone and stone doesn't feel fear. He is offering me the carrot and holding the stick behind his back. Worse of all will be the key that he will use to lock me away forever. Stone, I am stone, surrounded by stone walls and he won't get through. Open your mouth. Speak._

"No. I appreciate your offer but I will not go back to being locked away daily and raped and beaten nightly. It doesn't agree with me and it was not my destiny anymore than being nothing more than a bastard agrees with you. I am trying to offer you a chance for that to end if you would just hear me through. And before you think to leap or order a single man, please be aware of what I am holding."

Ramsay had been about to signal one of his men to kill Podrick, tensing to attack his naughty wife. Now he froze and groaned inwardly at the bitch's cold cunning. What has happened to the polite, cold but cowering girl he has married? He stared at the blade already pressing hard enough against the bulge that blood was seeping through the rough cloth.

He sat back, leaning and crossed his leg, putting his hands relaxed on his knees.

"You have made your point. Stop and sit down. Being a little over dramatic aren't we? Very well, continue, convince me of your...whatever this is."

Sansa sat down, her legs were shaking, she felt bile rising into her throat. _Good, he is listening, do not falter now, remember who you are, what you are. What is owed to you._ Her hands folded on her stomach, the blade was still there, waiting if needed. Ramsay poured himself an ale from a new jug he ordered from the terrified innkeeper. This made Sansa give a tiny smile and allowed her the perfect way to start.

"When we met, we did not know anything of each other except the barest of facts and I am also positive that Petyr and Roose did their best to conceal our...faults. And some of our strengths too, perhaps. We didn't start off in a way that really allowed us to ever speak of those things. You made assumptions about me and locked me away to hurt and breed babies off of. It never occurred to you that I could be helpful to you in any other way. Then again, my hatred and fear of you and your father didn't not make me even try to reason or talk with you."

Sansa indicated the new pitcher and gave a tiny smile. 

"You know Reek wouldn't dare to ever poison your drink. You probably worried that either Brienne or Podrick might have risked tainting the drinks to save me. It would actually be me, perhaps deep down you know that if you were poisoned, it would be by my hands. After all, I was the one wearing the necklace of poison that killed the King. I am the one Joff abused for years on end, I am the one who learned all about mercy at the knee of Cersei Lannister. And I have been a very good friend of Petyr, my tutor of a sorts. Unlike my little sister Arya, I cannot use a sword or a bow, I am afraid I must use other methods. Just like my mother, the queen, Tyrion and Petyr...all of us who cannot wield the larger weapons, I have been taught to use other ways to survive."

Ramsay gave a silly face to her and asked sweetly,

"Darling, are you warning me that you plan on poisoning me? It isn't a very good plan to tell your victim that you are sneaking up on them."

"No, husband. I have no plans on poisoning you. But I can poison someone else who is a bane in your side. If you will allow me to be a partner in this marriage rather than a beaten bride. I can see to it that that woman never gives Roose a son if you want. I am carrying your heir and that is only the very start of what I can do for you. Do you really believe it was my father's huge sword alone that held the proud north together? My mother was the one who knew who to welcome, who to cater to, who was lying, who was honest. Do you think after Robert won the throne that he ruled? No, whether cruelly or not, Cersei ruled their home, helped create or destroy allies as needed. While you flay, burn and torture, the real enemies of your family are silently massing. If you want to bring them into the fold, it isn't force needed, it is me. It is the legend of the last Stark that is what they are holding on to. So let the legend come forth with open arms and a ready smile to help your...our dynasty, Ramsay. I may not have wished to be married to you but I am. And I am bearing your child. So if I must be a Bolton, then let me be one in full truth of the name. For my child, for my own sanity and survival, I have become cold, I am committed to being the kind of wife you need."

Sansa took a deep breath and waited to see what Ramsay's pensive stare and silence meant.


	8. Black Ice

Ramsay took a sip of his ale, dabbed his lips with a cloth and gently set the tankard down.

"Convince me. Convince me you are a cold hearted woman who wants to help me further my hold."

His eyes held a challenge that terrified her and curiosity that gave her determination.

Sansa shifted and was surprised that the stone that encased her didn't scrape loudly against the chair.

"Reek, stand facing the wall."

With a small whimper, the frail, frightened creature obeyed. Sansa saw Ramsay's eyes flash with jealousy but with some malicious amusement.

"Show your Master the new marks you have on your back."

With a smothered sob, he did so and Sansa watched Ramsay's eyes go wider.

"Traitor is a very long word when it's etched that deeply into your skin when a person is using shards of ice to do it. I had to carve the same lines over and over to make sure it would scar clearly. Reek, kneel back where you were."

"Rather clumsy work, but all the same, creative of you."

Sansa leaned forward and forced her icy eyes to clash with Ramsay's.

"Would you like to know the truth of what happened to Myranda? How we jumped over the wall?"

She prayed, she began to pray because here is where truth ends and lies begin. It has to work, Reek has to be broken enough by now to not deny anything she says.

"When you broke Theon, you should have kept him away from me. You should never have made him come to me in private, Ramsay. Did you think I wouldn't hurt him for betraying my trust to you? Did you think I didn't have the mental skills to force him to my will? You told him to care for me, to keep me safe. When Myranda tried to shoot an arrow through me, I ordered Reek to stop her. I reminded him you had charged him with keeping me safe. So he did, I don't even think he knew he was killing her until she was flying over the railing. Then I grabbed his hand and dragged him along to the edge of the wall."

Sansa stopped to take a sip of ale, her throat went dry with the stress of it all. Ramsay had his eyes now pinned on his pet, the cowering, sobbing creature at her feet. Ramsay's runaway dog has now become the stolen dog or so she hoped. Her story must save Reek if he can only obey her and lie. Because if this works, then Sansa will always have a pet, a spy, a carrier of messages and secrets. All it takes is for Reek to see Sansa save him from being mutilated and he will be hers as much as he's Ramsay's.

"The stupid creature screamed when I leaped over the wall and took him with me. After I dug us out of the snow..he kept trying to scramble back as if he could climb back up and in. He followed only when I hit him into obedience. I reminded him that you ordered he must keep me safe. Therefore he had to follow me. The more I tried to remind him who he used to be, the more disgusting and small he became. Finally I let him be Reek before he was driven insane. He babbled all the time about how we needed to go home and how Master would be angry that we left. That running was bad and not allowed. It was pitiful. I shut him up by hitting him with a large stick. Soon I only needed to be near the stick and he shut his mouth fast."

Ramsay was halfway between resentment and amusement now. He gave his pet a possessive stare then smiled at Sansa. 

"Reek is a slow learner. However, I never needed to be holding a weapon for him to shut up if I wished it. Theon was that bad of a pet. Not Reek, my pet knew better than to annoy his Master with babbling."

A loud whimper and Reek cringed lower. Ramsay shifted to push his chair back a bit.

"Let my Reek come to me then and verify your story. My pet might have been a bad boy running away, but he doesn't lie to his Master. I want to ask him if things went your way."

Sansa nodded.

"Go answer your Master's questions, Reek."

Sansa couldn't warn, threaten or entreat without Ramsay hearing or seeing it. His eyes were sharp for the lie, the trap, the game. She watched as the broken, terrified creature crawled under the table and before his Master's boots, on his belly, a dog with it's tail between it's legs. Ramsay grabbed Reek's collar and put him onto his knees. A thumb and finger pulled the narrow chin upwards so the large, tortured eyes were submissively trying to meet Ramsay's.  

"Look at me, Reek. Is this all true? How did Myranda die, Reek? The truth, pet. I want to punish you, then forgive you...but you must tell me the truth."

Reek looked up with guileless eyes of someone who was meeting a fearful deity and Sansa readied her knife.

"Lady Sansa..she said keep her safe, Master. You told Reek keep Lady Sansa safe. She wouldn't listen to me, Master! I begged her to come home! Please I tried to!"

Ramsay gave a small sharp slap to Reek's face.

"No babbling. I don't care how scared you are, senseless fucking thing. Back on hands and knees. Not a sound from you. When we return home there will be a punishment for being a bad Reek. Then I will forgive you."

Ramsay spoke as if bestowing the gifts of freedom and the North with it and his pet seemed to take it that way too. Reek blubbered as he huddled there. Sansa stared at the creature disgusted, hiding the relief that she saved him. He was hers too now. He owed her too.

"I tamed and tricked your pet. I survived when all of my family is dead around me. I am clever, Ramsay. I saw to the death of the whore about to destroy my face and I killed the King that tormented me. I branded your creature, does it sound like I am a kind, warmhearted empty headed wife? I will have no issue poisoning Walda for you. Why would I want her babe to come before mine? I want to help propel my husband and my children to success, it was I was born by my mother to do, what Cersei tutored me in. Petyr did bring me to the right place, we just started out wrong. I would like a chance to show you that I can be an asset to you. I am not looking to be anything more than the Lady of a very powerful family." 

 Ramsay stared at his wife as her pale hand tightened on the blade with freezing fingers.


	9. I Did What I Had To Do

Sansa stood on the wall again.

It was biting cold, the wind stabbed her with tiny blades, like Arya's needle might feel. She looked out at the snow covered trees, at the snow covered everything. Never had she seen snow this deep ever, if there were dead walking they might get buried on their way. A silly thought but one that at least made her curve her lips in a smile. For the most part she was actually quite warm. The huge bearskin cloak Ramsay gifted her with on the birth of their twins kept her snug.

There was a shuffle behind her and Sansa spoke.

"Come closer, Reek. Do you remember the last time we stood here? Well, of course you do."

Without looking Sansa knew that Reek was wincing, trying not to look at the leather wrapped warped wooden boot that replaced his left foot. Without a mirror, Sansa also knew that Cersei's satisfied gleam was on her face, that hateful fucking smirk.

"Feel lucky, pet. At least you only have to manage one fake personality."

She knew that would make Reek go pale with terror and begin to babble that he knew he who was.

Waving a hand to shut him up ahead of time, with a flair of Tyrion in it, Sansa turned. As she went to Reek to see what he needed, a weak voice called out. Turning, Sansa looked at the large cage with an even larger naked man crammed into it. Well, not really naked, the man had plenty of skins to cover himself with. But he was the same color as the flesh of his friends and it was hard to tell in this windy snowstorm what was what. The man screamed out again.

"Traitor!"

Sansa tilted her head politely.

"Pardon me, I am not sure if you are speaking to my pet or myself?"

Tormund sneered at the redheaded cunt who so easily betrayed her own brother.

"You. Traitor. Kinslayer. Betrayer of the North. Filth. Whore. Am I clear enough? My teeth chatter so I am not sure you understand."

"Oh, I do understand you now. Thank you, yes. Am I really all of those things? That is quite a list you have there. And I can assure you that your information is quite wrong. I did not kill my half brother Jon Snow. He was killed by the Nights Watch, some time ago in fact. The man you speak of told me he was Jon Targaryen. I looked into his eyes and I did not see Jon Snow, I saw fire and my death. He looked into my eyes and he did not see Sansa Stark. Because she died too. But his death is not at my hands, that was my husband. Lord Ramsay likes to be early to battles. So he showed up a day earlier and since he was a little bored he decided to go give Jon incentive to move a little faster. His trickery was not mine. You know what is my fault though?"

Sansa stuck her white pale hands, slowly turning blue in the cold out for Tormund to see.

"Do you see the blood on my hands? No matter what or how I clean them, I always see it. It starts with my father, I may not have dropped the axe but I sent him to it. I was responsible for the death of the King, after all I carried the poison. My aunt Lysa, thrown down her own Moon Door because the husband she loved more than anything would rather save me, than her. He saw just enough of my mother in me to let me live and treat me well, he didn't see enough not to sell me off to the Boltons however. Now when I cause someone's death or destroy their lives, it is on purpose. Are you sure you don't see even a stain?"

Her hands stuck closer and Tormund shook his head in disgust.

"You are fucking crazy. As crazy and sick as that cold fucking bastard. No use talking to crazy people."

Sansa smirked at little as Podrick, her other shadow, moved a little closer.

"The first intentional death was poor Brienne of Tarth. All she wanted was to fulfill her oath to my dead mother. And she did help me in the end...I feel bad for how ugly and bad it was for her. Walda and her baby were next, I had to poison her, had to show Ramsay I could be as ruthless as he is. And to be honest, it was for my own precious children, couldn't have this other vying for their power, could I? What kind of mother deliberately allows her children to suffer that way? Now, Roose was Ramsay's work, but I must admit that I had much persuasive discussion upon the subject with him first. Since then...how many young girls have I smiled kindly at, knowing my husband or his boys had terrible plans for them? How many Lords and Ladies have I lied to, have I given safe passage straight to my husband's flaying knife? Countless. The blood will stain forever."

Tormund stared at her with disgust then spit at her.

Reek gasped and wrung his hands, moaning softly as Podrick came over to hit the cage hard. He used a large club left here for that very purpose. It set the cage to swinging in the wind and Tormund held himself tightly inside it. Each time someone swung the heavy cage, it spun and creaked alarmingly. One day it would plummet down if the rope snapped just right and Tormund is already hoping for that day to come. Sansa knew Ramsay wouldn't let that happen. He was toying with the idea of keeping the large beast. She shuddered delicately and allowed Podrick and Reek to help her inside.

It was time to check on her beloved children. As Sansa walked, Reek timidly gave messages from her husband then he excused himself to sere his Master. Podrick continued to follow his mistress. He rarely spoke or smiled but Sansa had done the best she could to keep him alive by making him her personal guard. He should be grateful and so it was never discussed. Just before she entered the children's hall, she saw two maids giggling over some sort of parchment. Both maids stood at attention at their Lady's curious stare.

"What do you have there, girls?"

Timidly, one of the maids handed her the parchment. The other started to cry, what if the mistress told Ramsay of her upset? But Sansa simply looked at the parchment, gave a tiny smile and handed it back.

"Here, take some coin and go see the play. Please let me know if the woman looks anything like me. Tell me if the play is any good, if its funny. Lady Stoneheart sounds like a great title."

 


End file.
